Gift of wild friendship

Helen has been on my heart for years, literally since second grade at Main Street Elementary in Glen Ellyn, IL. Today she'd easily be diagnosed with something like Asberger Syndrome, high-functioning autism, and ADHD, attention deficit hyperactivity disorder; back then there weren't names for her behavior and, yet, she was assigned an aide and mainstreamed into my classroom. Seems pretty progressive from my perspective.

Somehow she wormed her way into my heart. Maybe it was the galloping around the classroom and whinnying like a horse, her bright spirit and intensity. She belonged as much as I, the quiet and studious child. Perhaps I wanted to be more out there like Helen or maybe it was as simple as she needed a friend and Spirit nudged me in that direction.

Helen's window

I don't recall all of the particulars of our relationship, but I do remember she came to my birthday party, spirited energy and all. I see her: strawberry-blond shoulder-length hair partially secured with a rubber band, fair skin and freckles, skinny as all get-out, romping around in her plaid jumper with a white short-sleeved blouse, Peter Pan collar, white-cable knee-high socks and brown Mary Jane shoes. At her desk in the corner with Mrs. Schroeder, her patient aide. I must have been pretty engaged with her because I can't think of other friends that year outside of my Brownie Troop and the neighborhood kids. That was also the year I fell in love with reading. So, second grade was pretty much hanging with Helen and reading, not such a bad way to spend childhood.

Until the day Helen hadn't returned from recess, the teachers panicked, adult yelling ensued, then a loud squeal and, soon, an ambulance siren. Helen had run out in front of a car. Fortunately, we were all safely back in our seats and didn't witness the trauma. That would have been heart-wrenching and wounding. Helen came back in a cast as if nothing had happened and we resumed our happy classroom at the bottom of the stairs. Funny thing is, that a couple of years ago on a return trip from Wisconsin, we took our girls back to Glen Ellyn and stopped at the school. It's now a beautiful rec center and the class I shared with Helen has been transformed into an art room. How wonderfully appropriate, I thought. It and the halls seemed so much smaller than I remembered and yet, I could picture Helen right in that room, her back to the door and desk facing the wall, under the high window. I wonder where she is and what she's doing. I hope she's had a rich life. She had such energy, passion and spirit.

A few weeks ago, I pawed through a thick album of school things my mother had saved and passed on. Tucked inside was a hand-written letter from Mrs. Schwanke, my second-grade teacher. It was thanking me for an end-of-the-year gift and telling me I would do well in my new school and find another girl like Helen to befriend. My eyes welled as I read. I had not thought my relationship anything out of the ordinary, but my teacher had.

Helen taught me that it's okay to be different, be who we are because God will always take care of us and draw what and who we need close. Thank you Helen, wherever you are!

• When has Spirit nudged me into an unusual relationship, particularly as a child?
• How easily did I respond?
• Was it any easier as a child than it would be as an adult?
• How have those experiences transformed me?
• How am I richer for them?


wired, wound up
and ready to
rumble
all of the
time

she reminded 
me of Tigger
from Winnie-the
Pooh

I was fixated,
fascinated
and drawn
to her wildness

maybe my quietness
grounded her and
her rambunctiousness
unbridled me

whatever it
was, our
friendship
was a gift

Listen to this post:

Natural Truth

Yesterday, I shared coffee and conversation with spiritual friends, spiritual friends who are also mystics. Ever since a June retreat for Quaker mystics, we've carved out a monthly meeting time to check in with each other spiritually, support our journeys and be present to one another. There's no real set agenda, which is such a blessing. We're there to be ... together.

I crave this kind of connection, daily. Perhaps that's why I subscribe to two online meditations and just signed up for a third. I need reminders and companionship. Walking the walk isn't so easy for me. It can feel lonely and desolate at times. Me against the world, when I have forgotten that Spirit is always available. A grounding of like-hearted others is crucial.

We don't even have to talk about much in this group of three, though we usually meander some deep places. I like that we come as equals and can bare our souls. I shyly released a haunting confession yesterday, to which one friend spouted out a silly story and put my heart at ease. "I would have responded with something deeper," the other said and we all laughed. It was just right.

Such an antidote to the fact my life is in high gear as my daughters transition to ungodly wake-up times, heavy class loads and after-school commitments. Toss in six weeks of three birthdays, accompanied by parties and overnights, a major grant, evaluation of another, an Artsy Fartsy field trip and community art day and, well, you get the picture. Fill in your own details, I'm certain you recognize this space. Not much room for God.

"What art are you making?" one of my mystic cohorts chirps. "Are you blogging?" I confess that it's been ages since I've made art and that my usual, holy blogging days of Tuesday and Friday have been shuffled for 13th-year celebrations and pursuing grant finances, something I abhor because it is the least creative endeavor I can imagine.

I have an order for a Turtlebox, plan to open an Etsy shop with more and am dying to get knee-deep in a daylong retreat I am facilitating on naming gifts in October. But not until the surveys, evaluations and event planning happen. Sometimes I think the super structure will eat me alive. Without it, however, there's no funding for work God calls me to.

My husband hints that I wouldn't know myself unless I was stacked to the gills with work. I yearn for spaciousness. Do I make my work work? There have been times when it seems flowing and easy. This is not one of those. Now I feel ultra responsible, with few to share the burden physically, emotionally and spiritually.

One of my escapes when I am busy is to read. Currently, I'm reading Bridget Jones' Edge of Reason for the second time (I need to laugh, plus I love her vulnerability), Henri Nouwen's Spiritual Direction, Quaker Jan Wood's Christians at Work and The Edison Gene, which I find fascinating. Subtitled ADHD and the Gift of the Hunter Child,  I recognize elements of my youngest, but also myself. I have no problem focusing, but the sections on why some people can't function in the public-education system as well as the history of compulsory education help me see the untruth in our society. These artificial systems of dominance defeat our natural and beautiful wild tendencies, beating us into submission. No wonder I detested the corporate world and felt like an outsider in school, even if I could conform and do well. However, what speaks to me most are the sections on spirituality and mysticism. Thom Hartmann supposes with much fact that people with this hunter gene, holdover from ages ago, constantly scan the landscape and, with our changing technology this is, yet, another genetic adaptation not a disorder. These Hunter types stray from the mainstream, seeking a direct experience of the divine, dream and have an inner knowing that's lacking today. THIS is where I want to live.

I'd love to trade the busyness and super structure for dreaming, closeness to God and deep relationship with others. What's stopping me?

• With whom do I share my spiritual journey?
• When do I have a space for that with no other agenda?
• Who are the companions or mystics in my life?
• How do I nurture my spirituality and connection to God?
• What untruths have I recognized in the secular world?


in 20 years,
the NPR reporter says,

productivity has
risen 70 percent

and salaries,
5 percent

craziness, I say

just what are we 
laboring and pushing for?

and when we have trouble
focusing, they suggest
we are disordered

when the truth is
the material world
creates myth and
a vicious cycle

like the lab rat in
a cage, unable 
to see her way out

dreaming, praying
and connecting
are the essential
and natural Truth

Listen to this post: